NO PLAYS EXCHANGED. 



^AHnR'5 Edition 

or PL7\Y3 



BRASS BUTTONS 




COPywIGHT, 1889. BY WALTEH H. BAKER it, CO- 



NEW OPERETTAS FOR CHILDREN. A 

KING COLE. $ 

A BURLESQUE OPERETTA IN THREE ACTS. | 

Libretto by H. N. CUNNINGHAM. A\^ 

Music by M. L. COOLEY. /IS 



Ten male, tliree female cliaraeters, and as many as desired for chorus, 
('ostunies fancy, but not ditticult ; scenery desirable, but not absolutely 
necessary. Written primarily for boys, particularly for boy choirs, boys' ^AV 
schools or clubs, it was intended originally that boys should play the female ■•-•■ 
chai-acters, but girls may be introduced in these parts, if desired, and also in 
the chorus. The music is easy, catchy, and easily learned. Five of the parts y|V 
demand good singers, but the other characters are not ex.'icting. The music is 
printed complete with the text. TTie plot of the operetta is inspired by the 
familiar enactment of King Cole in the nursery rhyme, and is fancifully y|V 
developed with much humor and a satirical side glance at recent political hap 
penings. Plays one hour and a lialf. 



Price 50 cents. 



\V 

V»/ 

M/ 

A dream:^flowers.| 

^ Catttata for C|}iltrrEn. Jj|j[ 

CONSISTING OF SONGS, CHORUSES, RECITATIONS, i^ 

DI.ALOGUES, ETC. ^ly 

For fourteen little girls, one little boy, and chorus. Costumes fanciful, but \f/ 

easily gotten up. Ko scenery needed, though it can be employed to advantage, ^i^ 

'i'his cantata primarily celebrates ISTay Day, introducing a May-pole Dance, but ^!^ 

it is good and not unsuitable for performance at any season. It is published *ff 

<'omplete witli music, pretty and very easy. This piece is the work of an expe- \ik'^ 

rienced teacher, familiar with the needs and limitations of children, and is .1^ 

cilfercd with confidence. >ff 

Price 35 cents. W 

\»/ 



By NELLIE E. CASE. 



Brass Buttons 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

For Female Characters Only 



By GRACE A. LUCE 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO 
1900 



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CHARACTERS 



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1-1 



(^As originally produced by the Decern Club, at the St. Louis 
Opera House, San Diego, California, Nov. lOth, i8gg, 
ujider the title of " S. Sutherland Breyf ogle.'') 

Mrs. Eva Wildwood, Miss Mabel Gassen. 

A yomig woman who will never on any account marry again. 

Miss MiLLY O'Naire, Miss Jessica Barrett. 

Who liates men, but gets bored without thetn. 

Madeline, Mrs. Wilbur McNeil. 

'Her cousin, who loves candy, and weeps easily. 

Marigold, Miss Katheryn Hearne. 

Another cousin, who often takes naps. 

Aunt Flossie, Mrs. Frank Carpenter. 

An athletic old lady, their chaperoti, who plays golf. 

Miss Cornelia Brownell Darwin, Miss Mabel Stockton. 

A spi7ister of uncertain age, who has never been kissed, 

arid loves to quote from favorite authors. 

Dodo Ginty, Miss Ella Gerichten. 

The O' Naires' unmanageable and irrepressible maid, who 

went to school with Mrs. Wildwood. 

Caddies, etc., ad libitum. 
COSTUMES MODERN. 



Note. — This piece contains abundant opportunities for local hits, which 
hould not be neglected. Names can be changed to suit locality. 




Copyright, 1900, by Walter H.-J3akkr & Co. 



Brass Buttons 



ACT I 

SCENE. — The private apartment of Miss O'Naire. Doors 
c. R. and L. Mantel with mirror L. Table l. c, and two 
chairs. Couch R. c. Divan c. Other furniture ad. lib. 
MiLLY discovered playing solitaire at table L. c. Madeline 
reading R. c. Marigold asleep on divan c. Silence for 
some minutes after the rise of the curtain. 

Milly (at table, throwing down cards with signs of disgust). 
Oh, yes, I just love cards. Of course I do. I enjoy every 
game of cards from duplicate whist to old maid. It develops 
one's sense of her own stupidity to play cards. (Shuffling 
cards.) And it is so exciting to play solitaire by the yard, day 
after day, and all by one's self. (^Dealing.) Solitaire is one 
of those games that it takes two to play to make it interesting. 
You must have some one to show — how he can't get it. Not 
that I should like to have some man around to teach me a new 
game — oh, no ; I'm glad at least that I'm not compelled to 
have one of those trying creatures hanging around me all the 
while, and expecting to be flattered. That would be too, too 
much. This hotel is a hydra-headed bore, anyway, and if 
there were any silly young men staying here, it would make 
it just that much worse. I'm sure I hope that none will 
come. 

Mad. {looking up from her very big book). Why, you 
haven't heard of any that are expected, have you, dear? 
(^Yawns.) 

Milly. No, darling, I haven't ; and I can't think of any use 
they could be put to, if they did come. {Flaying solitaire ener- 
getically.) I suppose we'd show more variety in our dinner 
gowns, and they might keep you supplied with candy. {Takes 



4 BRASS BUTTONS. 

Up handful of photographs.') But then, you know, they always 
send one chocolates when you want caramels, and vice-versa. 
It would take at least a dozen to keep you supplied, anyway. 

Mad. {who has disappeared behind book, but now lays it 
down and gets out handkerchief). Now, I think you are real 
unkind, dear, to call me greedy. I'm sure 1 always offer the 
candy all around before I take any myself. 

MiLLY. And nobody else ever takes any. 

Mad. Well, that isn't my fault. {Turns her back.) 

MiLLY (rising and pacing floor L. to R.). No, it's the fault 
of our digestions, {speaks at turn facing audience) which get 
rather delicate, sitting around here with us, when we have 
nothing to do. {With hands behind her.) Is it very near 
luncheon time now ? or how long is it till dinner time ? And 
we eat so much that it takes us an hour afterward before we can 
forget it and feel comfortable again. {Back to l.) Then we 
begin to say, " Only an hour more before we can go to bed," 
and it is that sort of thing all the time. 

(Sits at table l. c. in deep dejection.) 

Mad. Why don't you get some entertainment out of the 
men who live in town, dear? I'm sure they'd like you real 
well, if they only knew you better. 

MiLLY. Thank you, darling. {Taking up hand mirror and 
arranging flowers in hair.) I have already laid myself out to 
be nice and entertaining to them, and all I've gotten out of 
them is one bicycle ride, and an invitation to go swimming. 
The sweet things are so busy, you know. They're always busy 
except when they want to go somewhere. {Picks up cards.) 

Mad. But of course, dear, you are-g4ad, because you know 
you just said that you wouldn't have one hanging about you all 
the time for anything. 

MiLLY {scattering the cards about the room ; aiming with 
precision). And I meant it, too. I haven't seen a man for so 
long that I feel like a new woman. Look at Marigold, isn't 
she the picture of baby-hearted trustfulness ? I suppose she is 
dreaming that something exciting has happened, or is going to 
happen, or is happening. She went to sleep right after break- 
fast. 

{Throws roses at her, c, until one hits her on the nose, and 
Marigold wakes up, startled.) 

Mar, Oh ! Oh ! Where am I ? Is it morning ? 



BRASS BUTTONS. 5 

MiLLY. Well, I guess yes. You can't kill time that way. 
It isn't time for luncheon yet. 

Mar. Oh dear ! I've been dreaming. I dreamt such a 
lovely dream. I dreamt I was at a dance, and I was holding 
six bouquets that six different men had sent me, and my 
programme was all filled, and there were about a dozen more 
men around me, scribbling their names on the back of my 
programme for extras. (^J^isin^.) And I had a train yards 
long, and a diamond star in my hair, and none of the girls 
would speak to me ! But it was a lovely dream. 

MiLLY. Oh, good gracious! where did you get it? 
If I go to sleep there in that chair do- you suppose I'll 
have it ? 

Mar. Oh, no ! 

Mad. (rising and coming forward'). Won't you have some 
candy, girls ? 

(Marigold yawns and shakes her head.) 

MiLLY. Oh, Jehosophat blazes ! Don't you mention it to 
yours truly. I've eaten candy almost as much as you have 
till I feel as if I haven't sense enough for an X-ray to find. It 
makes people that way. 

Mad. (goes back to sofa r. c). Thank you, darling. 
(Offended.) 

MiLLY. You're quite welcome, sweetheart. (Rises and 
goes to mirror dt L. , picks up book or banjo, but throws it down 
again.) It was really awfully nice of Aunt Flossie to bring us 
here, wasn't it? 

Mar. (coming to table l. c). So sweet and unselfish of her, 
for of course, it just suits her. Every man in this hotel is too 
old to do anything but drink cocktails and play golf. She is 
quite a belle. I saw her on the course yesterday, trying to 
learn the game herself ! (Sits on table. ) You ought to have 
seen her, dears. She hit old Mr. Rawlings zip whiz with her 
ball, right between his padded shoulders. I tell you it was a 
hummer. It bounced back and hit his bull terrier in the nose, 
and he caught hold of a nice place in her new red and yellow 
and plaid stockings, and held on tight. 

MiLLY (from Marigold's chair r. c). Mr. Rawlings 
did? 

Mar. What's the matter with you ? You must have had 
some candy. No, the bull terrier, of course. Old Rawlings 
was so mad he wouldn't go to her rescue until the spot on his 



6 BRASS BUTTONS. 

spine had cooled. By that time Aunt Flossie had sat right 
down on the green, and was trying to glare the dog out of 
countenance, like one reads about in books, that women do 
with cows. 

MiLLY {oil edge of chair r. c). Or mice ! 

Mad. (l.). And she does it with us sometimes, too. 

Mar. But the dog didn't notice or mind it any more than 
we do. 

{Silence, in tvhich all sigh.') 

MiLLY {from depths of chair R.). . What's the matter, 
girls ? 
Mad. '\ 

and > Oh, nothing ! 
Mar. 3 

{The clock strikes eleven.) 

Mad. In two hours we can have luncheon. 

MiLLY {clasps hands'). Yes — oh, joyful thought ! You're 
not bored because there are no men about, are you, dears ? 

Mad. ^ 

and > Oh, no indeed. 

Mar. ) 

Mar. {picking up photo from table and gazing at it). It 
really is much nicer not to have any here. We have such good 
times just by ourselves. I'm sure if a man should come to this 
hotel, I should let you girls have him, I'm so tired of them. It 
would take a Prince of Wales, at least, to interest me. 

MiLLY. Oh, you like celebrities, do you ? Thank you 
very much, darling, for your kind assurances of leaving him to 
us. {Study i fig her photo, which she takes from belt.) If any 
one comes, I'm sure I don't want even to meet him. 

Mad. {who has her candy, etc., on the sofa, L.). Yes, it 
will be best not even to get introduced to him, as that will 
spare us that awful trouble of getting rid of him afterward. I 
hate to hurt their feelings. 

Milly {savagely). Oh, I don't. I like to. I just like to. 

{The door r. is violently thrown open, and Dodo dashes in, 
waving a hat and hat brush.) 

Dodo (c). There's some one coming to call on you, and 
that's no josh. 

All {jumping up). Who? Who is he? 



BRASS nUTTONS. 7 

Dodo. Oh, it's only a loidy. (^All sit down.') I was 
standing by the telephone that goes down into the hotel office, 
and I heard, as plain as I'm standing here, some voice saying, 
" ATe the Misses O'Naire at home? " And then they told her 
that your Aunt Floss was out, and I screamed down the telly- 
phone, "Send her up to room 45," for I didn't want you to 
miss her, and I knew you wanted something to brace you up. 
(^Brushes hat vigorously, c. ) 

MiLLY. Nonsense, Dodo, we are quite enjoying each other's 
company, and you are entirely mistaken about our being so 
anxious for visitors. What did she look like ? 

Dodo. As if I could see through a tellyphone. She had a 
nice voice though. It went way up like this, and way down 
like this, and she must have been smiling at the clerk — and 
he's my property, too. I'll bet she don't need no bracer. 

Mad. (l.). I wish. Dodo, that you would stop talking 
about cocktails ! 

DoDO (r. c). Cocktails, miss? {Holds up hat brush.') 
There ! I hear footsteps approaching. 

MiLLY. Dodo, you are getting decidedly fresh. 

Dodo. Younger every year, miss. 

(^Knock at door.) 

Mad. Go to the door. Dodo. 

(^All arrange hair, etc. Dodo puts up hat and looks at her- 
self in mirror. Kiiock is repeated.) 

Mar. If you don't go,. I'll go myself. 

{The girls all forcibly push her toward the door, then re- 
sume original positions and nonchalance. Marigold r. ; 
MiLL\ c. ; Madeline l.) 

Dodo {at door). Yes, ma'am, they are at home, miss. 
They have been at home all the morning. There isn't much 
sassiety going on, you know. 

{Goes R. Enter 'Mk^. Wildwood. 'M.illy rises to receive 
her.) 

Mrs. W. Good-afternoon. You are the Misses O'Naire? 
I am Mrs. Wildwood. I used to know your aunt, and came 
to see her. I am sorry she is out. 

MiLLY. Yes, so are we. We can't keep her at home a 



b BRASS BUTTONS. 

minute. We girls are not sisters, you know. This is my 
cousin, Madeline, and this is my other cousin. Marigold. 
{High hand shake all around.) Do sit down, Mrs. Wild wood ; 
at least, we have plenty of chairs. 

Mrs. W. {seated in chair c). You speak in a somewhat 
sad tone ; why is that ? Ah, my dear girls, when I see you 
so bright and happy — (Milly and Marigold on sofa r. c, 
very affectionate') and then think of ^ny own sad experience, 
although I am, if anything, younger than any of you 

(Marigold comes to table.) 

Dodo {aside; doivn front r.). The idea! She's a 
corker ! 

Mrs. W. {getting out handkerchief). It really makes me 
weep. Excuse these tears. I am afraid I cry only too easily, 
since, since — my poor, dear Reginald left me. {Seated c.) 

Mar. {with curiosity). Where did he go? 

Mrs. W. To heaven, I hope, dear friend. I have every 
reason to expect so. He was a most exemplary young man. 
So young ; and yet, older than I. When we were engaged, he 
sent me violets every morning. He said they reminded him of 
me — and so I have worn them ever since and every night we 
went to the theatre or somewhere, — of course I was always well 
chaperoned. 

MiLLY. Heavens! Did your mother "go along too ? How 
did — er — ah — Reginald like that ? 

Mrs. W. Not only mamma, but papa, too. That made 
everything so pleasant, for they entertained each other. Of 
course we always sat behind them, so the dear old people 
could see everything — except us — and after we were married, 
Reginald never gave me anything but soft words. The girls 
all liked him so much. He was not good-looking, but he 
always paid his party calls. 

All the Girls. What a charming fellow ! 

Dodo (r., near front of stage ; aside). And that's no lie, 
for'I used to know him. (Dodo comes c.) Oh, Eva, don't 
you remember me ? Me as used to sit next to you, when we 
went to public school, thirty years ago ? Me as used to divide 
my gum with you ; and you got so mad at, and hammered me 
over the head with a slate, because Reginald threw me a kiss? 
And as used to tell you how many times eight fs, and where is 
Mt. Popocatapetl ? Thirty years ago ! I can hardly believe 
it, and you a tall gawky kid in short skirts then, and me ad- 



BRASS BUTTONS. , 9 

miring you always, as if I was looking at a circus. Don't you 
remember the time when I helped you make spit balls to throw 
at Reginald because he sang to you — " Girls are made of snails 
and nails and puppy dog tails " ? I was a great kid for spit 
balls. 

(Mrs. WihuwoOT) faints ; all rush to her.') 

MiLLY. Dodo, leave the room. If it wasn't you, I'd dis- 
charge you. 

(Dodo goes r. Girls offer smelling salts, fan, etc., M.A.n'S.- 
hw^ offers a piece of candy.) 

Dodo {coming back). But I want to wait till she comes to, 
and see if she remembers those let 'er go Gallagher days when 
we used to stand off the whole school in Blackman, and she 
cried because no one knew how to play Copenhagen, and she 
rode all around the school on Reginald's high bicycle, and she 
was always postmistress, when we played post office. (Mari- 
gold passes Mrs. Wild wood the hand-mirror.) And Regi- 
nald wrote in her autograph album, {to audience) all red with 
blue roses on it : 

" When you sail down the river of time, 
Like a bobtailed chicken on a sweet potato vine, 
I wonder what your name will be." 

(Mrs. Wild wood has come to, in time to hear the last.) 

Mad. {back of Mrs. Wildwood, Marigold and Milly on 
each side). Please, Dodo, please stop and please do go out. 
{To Mrs. Wildwood.) We can't manage Dodo; she just 
manages us, when aunt is out. Please go. {Taking her arm.) 
That's a dear, and I'll give you my new purple hat; it isn't a 
bit becoming to me. 

( Takes Dodo to door. Dodo goes out, but thrusts her head 
back.) 

Dodo. Does she remember those let 'er go Gallagher days ? 

{^All move toward her, and she disappears.) 

Mrs. W. Has that disgusting creature gone ? People are 
always saying I look like some one, but I don't. It's acase 
of mistaken identity. (Milly and Marigold return to seats.) 



lO BRASS BUTTONS, 

t 

I was two years at Marlborough, one at Vassar, and was 
finished at Ogontz. 

Mar. (at table). She looks it. We believe you. And 
where was Reginald finished ? 

Mrs. W. By a bunch of grapes and appendicitis, you know. 
But please don't tell any one, for appendicitis is no longer 
fashionable. Even the hoi polloi\i2.yt it now. Poor Reginald ! 

{All shake heads 7nournfully.~) 

Milly (l. c. w/M Madeline). It must be awful to lose a 
husband after you've once got him. 

(Marigold returns to chair r. and gets sleepy again.) 

Mrs. W. Oh, it is ! I shall never forget it ; and his last 
sweet words to me were, — " Eva, if you ever marry again, I've 
fixed my will so that you won't get a- cent." Poor boy. He 
was always so jealous. 

Mad. But he's gone now where there is no jealousy. 

Mrs. W. Oh, I don't know, I'm afraid Reg would be 
jealous of an angel, if there were any unattached ones about. 

Milly. But an angel is so much nicer than a man — don't 
you hate men ? We do. 

(Marigold wakes up again with a jump.') 

Mrs. W. I never thought about it in just that way, but of 
course since Reginald's transplanting, I have never cared for 
men. My heart is under the daisies with him — though it is 
violets I always send them to put on it. No mere man any 
longer has any interest for me. I like girls, — girls my own 
age, now ; and I just look upon men as a frivolous pastime, to 
be indulged in now and then — when there's nothing else on 
hand. 

Mad. Yes, that's what we do, too. Won't you have some 
candy, Mrs. Wildwood? {Offers candy.) 

Mar. Of course, they 'liven things up a bit now and then. 

Mad. And they are very convenient. 

Milly. And it's fun to play tricks on them, and make fun 
of them. 

Mrs. W. Yes, that is what I like — to get ahead of them. 
( Confidently .) It's great fun for a lot of girls to get together 
and fool them. 

Mad. But how do you do it ? 



BRASS BUTTONS, 11 

Mrs. W. Oh, there are many ways {rapping them off with 
fan), by many methods. One is flirtation, another is indiffer- 
ence ; then 3'ou can work through their pride or through their 
stomachs. Take down their pride a Uttle, or give them a good 
dinner — either way, you've got them 

Mar. I wish I could cook. 

Mrs. W. But there are so many ways that girls can have 
good times, just by themselves. ' 

MiLLY. We're awfully glad you've come — let's have some. 

Mad. But there isn't anything to do. Won't you have 
some candy ? 

{Opens new box at table while they all gather about it. 
Dodo sticTts her head in at door c.) 

Dodo. I can hear every word they say through this key- 
hole, and if Eva Wildwood has taken to liking girls, she must 
have gone through a mill with Reginald. (Dodo disappears.) 

Mrs. W. {seated c, girls l.). Yes, dear girls, I shall be 
glad to^ tell you all I know of the 'best methods for getting a 
husband ; but I, myself, am not on the market. I shall never 
marry again. 

MiLLY {with an arm on back of Mrs. Wildwood's chair). 
Oh, do, Mrs. Wildwood. 

Mad. Please do. 

Mar. {standing). Oh, please do get married. 

Mrs. W. No, I never will again. {Firmly.) 

At door c. enter Aunt Y'LO^'&y^, old lady with golf outfit. 

Aunt Flossie {carrying clubs, etc., mopping her face).' My 
dear nieces, I have had the most beautiful time ! {Stands c.) 

Mad. {ate). What was your score. Aunt Flossie? 

Aunt F. One hundred and fifty. Just think, girls, I beat 
Mr. Rawlings eight holes up. 

Mar. {back of table). Wasn't the dog there? 

Aunt F. The dog is dead. Providence interfered in my 
behalf. Why, Mrs. Wildwood, I'm so glad to see you. {They 
shake hands.) Do you play golf? So good of you to come 
and cheer up my poor girls when you yourself are in such a 
mournful state of mind. {Standing c.) Ah, I know how 
that is, for I have been all through it myself — three times. 
Yes, I have buried three husbands and am still alive to tell 
the tale and play golf {Business ivith clubs.) You see this 



12 BRASS BUTTONS. 

club I am using is a brassy driver. Now, my only desire is to 
get my nieces married. 

The Three Girls {all gathered together l. c). Why, Aunt 
Flossie. 

Aunt F. Sometimes it's very hard to hit the ball — why, 
sometimes I am swung completely around by the force of my 
blow, while the ball remains untouched. And the dust when 
one ploughs up the earth is very disagreeable. I have the 
most dreadful time with my nieces ; they absolutely dislike 
men. 

MiLLY (l. c). Well, how can we help it? 

Aunt F. In my young days, girls were off flirting in shady 
nooks, instead of sitting with each other in uninteresting rooms. 
These girls are even tired of golf. I believe Madeline has for- 
gotten the difference between a mashie and a putter. ( Made- 
line weeps.') This is a mashie. My nieces have the most 
fearful liking for each other's society. I'm afraid the upshot 
of it all will be that they will always be left to enjoy each 
other's society. 

All Three. Oh, Aunt Flossie, how can you. 

Aunt F. {pointi?ig at them scorrifully with clubs). Why, 
girls, it is one of the most dreadful things imaginable to be an 
old maid. Just remember Miss Darwin, in this very hotel. 
There's an example of an antiquated bachelor girl for you. 
How will you like it when you have settled down to paying 
your own car-fare, and buying your own stamps, and putting 
on your own wraps, all your life ? With no one to fight with 
{rapping floor with club),, no one to scold, and no one to tell 
you when the family bread is sour. {Girls weep l. c.) You 
see, Mrs. Wildwood, this cleek we use for lofting, and when 
you stymie on the lofter, as you do sometimes, {walks up and 
down) around the whole course, I tell you it gives me a thrill to 
see that ball go rolling off — off — and stop at thirty yards. ( Girls 
whisper L. c.) If it wasn't for your recent bereavement, I 
should urge you to take up the game, but I always allowed 
myself at least two years to recover my usual tone, after the 
death of my husbands. (Dodo bursts in c.) 

Dodo. Oh, missus ! I've been leaning out of the top 
balcony looking down — I almost lost my lid off — see. It's all 
crooked, but whut do I care? I was bound to see something 
and I did. Oh, give me time to get a breath. Oh, who would 
ever have thought it ! 

Girls. Oh, tell us, tell us, tell us. 



BRASS BUTTONS. I 3 

Dodo (c. seating herself^. And to think of such a thing 
happening right here in this hotel ! Oh, Croesus ! Oh, me ! 
And to see it with my own eyes, and hanging over the balcony 
until my cap might have fell off, and making myself such a 
spectacle for all those disrespectful bell boys to see. Oh, I am 
warm. I ran all the way to tell you. 

All (^jumping up). What is it? What did you see? 
What is it ? 

Dodo {standing c). I saw a man get out of the 'bus, and 
walk up these hotel steps just as big as life, and twice as nat- 
ural ; and he had a dress suit case, and a golf bag, and a hat 
box, and a tennis racket, and a fishing pole ; and on the dress 
suit case was writ plain in big black letters, — "Ensign S. 
Sutherland Breyfogle, U. S. N." (^A/l exclaim, and run out 
in different directions. ) Every last one of them gone down 
to the office to look at him. Well, for an old lady, and a be- 
reaved widow, and three girls who hate men so, they run al- 
mighty quick. And I was just going to tell them that I guess 
that other S. in front of his name stands for sweet — and he 
looks it. 



CURTAIN. 



ACT II 

SCENE I. — At the Golf -Club House. Golf chcbs on walls, 
usual furnishings. Large table with glasses, plates, etc., 
etc., c, some distance back. Entrance to kitchen R. C. 
Door R. Window L. Telephone l. 

Etiter MiLLY R., with bottles of ginger ale, etc., and bundles 
under her arm. 

MiLLY (c). Dodo forgot to send these down, so I just 
thought I'd bring them myself. It's dark, anyway. I passed 
Mr. Breyfogle, coming out of the hotel, and he thought I was 
a bell boy, and he yelled, " Garcong, leave me a bottle." He 
is so cunning ! Of course, detesting men as I do, he has no 
chance with me. Oh ! What eyes he has. I wonder if at 
last I am really in love. (Sighs.) Yes, perhaps I am. I feel 
like it. (^Deliberately puts doivn bundles and places hand on 
heart.') It is a most thrilling experience. (Picks up bundles, 
and takes them to table.) So nice of Mrs. Wildwood to think 
of us giving this supper down here. I know we'll have lots of 
fun, and I expect to sit off in a corner with the naval officer the 
whole evening. (Goes into kitchen.) 

Enter Madeline r., also laden dozvn. Box of candy also. 
Comes front c, and sits dotvn holding bundles, etc. 

Mad. Oh ! I never met any one so perfectly fascinating in 
my life, and I believe he prefers me to all the other girls. His 
voice sounded like it when he said "good-morning " to-day in 
the elevator. I know he hasn't such a meaning way of say- 
ing it to the others. Oh, dear (sighs), what a lovely nose he 
has. 

MiLLV (enterifig from kitchen ; by table). What's the mat- 
ter, darling ? Why are you sitting there with such a dying 
frog expression ? 

Mad. (Jumps tip and takes bundles to table). . I don't 
look like a dying frog. Here are those things that Dodo 
forgot. 

(Takes off hat and jacket and both busy themselves at table.) 

14 



BRASS BUTTONS. I5 

Enter Marigold r., also laden down. Places bundles on 
chair L. c, hangs up hat and coat, then comes down c. 

Mar. I wish Dodo would attend to her own work, instead 
of piling it all on me. And to think that Mr. Breyfogle is a 
veteran of our late walk-over with Spain. {Sits l.) He 
showed me a scratch on his left ear that was made by some- 
thing — I forget what. But it must have been a ghastly wound. 
Perhaps some day he will be an admiral. I wonder what kind 
of an admiral's wife I should make? Wouldn't I just make 
the younger officers stand around, though. I know he is going, 
to ask me to be his bride, and to send him off to the wars and 
be a Spartan widow, and all that ; but I wish he would hurry 
up about it. {Sits L., opening packages.^ 

Dodo (enters, standing r., by door'). Here I am, missus, 
and oh, the awful time I had escaping that sour-faced old maid 
that's always carrying a book around — that Miss Cornelia 
Brownell Darwin ; and you ought to a heard her asking me 
where I was going, and if any men were comings why she 
wasn't invited, and who was giving the party. I told her I 
didn't know. 

{Has been depositing packages, sausages, etc., on table.) 

MiLLV (r. c. by table). Any men invited ? Well, I guess 
yes ; and they've all accepted too. They just jumped at the 
chance. 

Mad. I'm glad you didn't tell her. Dodo, that we were 
here, or she would come on down anyway, even without being 
asked. She is so crazy to get into society. Come here and 
help, Marigold ; we haven't any time to lose. 

(Marigold brings packages to table. Madeline a?id Milly 
are angry at each other.) 

M\ixM {y..,bydoor). Oh, there is Mrs. Wildwood. Doesn't 
she look cute in her golf suit. 

(All clasp hands enthusiastically.) 

Enter Mrs. 'Wildwood r. All surround her, taking her jacket, 
etc., except Dodo, who tosses her head and glares at her l. 

Mrs. W. Good-evening, girls. 

Mad. Oh, we're so glad you've come, for you can tell us 
where the corkscrew is. 



1 6 BRASS BUTTONS. 

Mrs. W. How should I know where it is ? 

MiLLY. Yes, I've been hunting in all the lockers for it. 
(Dodo, Mrs. Wildwood and Marigold exeunt ta kitchen.) 
Haven't I, Madeline? 

Mad. (who is cutting bread at table). You needn't speak 
to me, miss. I shouldn't think that you would speak to a 
dying frog. 

MiLLV {cutting up sausage). Well, dying calf, then, if that 
suits you better. You looked it when you were sitting in the 
ballroom last night with Mr. Sutherland Breyfogle. 

Mad. (flourishing knife). You looked the same way, only 
there wasn't a man within ten yards of you. 

MiLLY (wavijig her knife). Oh, you mean thing ! 

Mad. Mean thing yourself ! You are just jealous of me. 

MiLLY. Jealous of you ! Well, I should like to know 
why. 

Mad. It's because of Mr. Breyfogle liking me best; and 
you like him yourself, and he prefers me and 

MiLLY. Now, I never will speak to you again. 

{fThrotvs tablecloth over her. Madeline gets out handker- 
chief.) 

Mrs. W. (appearing from kitchen with Marigold at back). 
Girls, girls ! Some of the young men might come in, and that 
would be too bad. (To Madeline.) Only widows are ex- 
pected to cry. (To Milly, 7vho has turned her back. 
Quarrelsome girls never get married. 

Mar. (c). Oh, Mrs. Wildwood, why were you wiping 
tears from your eyes the other night when you were sitting with 
Mr. Breyfogle in a corner of the veranda? 

Mrs. W. (sits dowfi R. c). Heavens! Where were you ? 
Did you watch us long ? Did you see us ? What did you see ? 
(Recovers herself.) Why, I was just speaking of poor, dear 
Reginald, of course, and Ensign Breyfogle was very sympa- 
thetic. 

Milly. I don't doubt it. 

Mrs. W. He regards me as a younger sister. 

Dodo, (loudly l.). Oh ! His younger sister. The idea. 

Mad. Dodo, attend to cutting up those wiene-wursts, and 
put the cheese under the. table. (Telephone bell rings.) 

Dodo. Maybe it's a bid for me. 

Mad. There ! Some one go to the 'phone. I won't. 

Mar. What has become of her sweet disposition ? ( Goes 



I 



BRASS BUTTONS, 1 7 

to 'phone l.) Hullo !— Hullo !— Hullo !— Hullo, central ! This 
is 45187 black. Oh, yes, this is the golf-club house. I am 

Miss Marigold. Oh, is that you, Mr. ? Glad to see 

you. Oh, you flatterer. Ha, ha, ha, ha. What? — You 
can't come? Oh, I'm so sorry, — sorry, — s-o-r-r-y. You are 
busy to-night? Well, that is too bad. Of course we can't get 
along without you. You're such a tease. Oh, you're joshing. 
But I'll tell you one thing, you are going to miss lots of fun. 
Good-bye. Did you hear that, girls? {Telephone bell rings 
again.) Hullo ! Be still, girls ; I can't hear a thing. 
Some one else wants us. Milly, some one wants to speak to you. 

MiLLY {goes to telephone). Yes, indeed, this is the golf- 
club house. I can't hear what you say. You are playing a 
drum? Oh, you mean you can't come. Well, I should just 
like to know why not. You — well, why didn't you think of 
your engagement before you accepted our invitation ? Oh, I 
don't know. Of course I'm awfully sorry, but then "I suppose 
it can't be helped. Some other time. Yes, I'll go with you, 
with pleasure, day after to-morrow. I'd just love to. All 
right, good-bye. {Bell rings again.) Hullo! who is this? 
Yes, she's here. Marigold, some one wants to talk with you 
again. I'll hold him for you. (Marigold goes to phone.) 

Milly (c). Well, girls, did you ever hear of anything to 
equal that ? I don't care if he did ask me to take a ride with 
him on the merry-go-round at the pavilion. That doesn't 
make up for his saying that he'd come, and then refusing at the 
last minute this way. I've a mind to cut them both. 

Dodo {tlvJio has been talking l. of table zvith Mrs. Wild- 
wood, against the latter' s wish; loudly). Don't you remem- 
ber what spoons you were on that red-headed boy, whose 
mother took in washing ? 

Mrs. W. {sits down r.). Dodo ! I wish you'd stop ! 

Mar. {coming from phone). Heber Ingle, Jr., say? he 
can't come to-night. He is awfully sorry, but something has 
happened. I couldn't tell whether it was to his voice or his 
bicycle. {Sits at table.) 

■ Milly. Isn't it strange that they all telephoned from the 
same place. 

Dodo. I know why, miss — they're having a supper them- 
selves to-night, up at Mr. . 

All. Oh ! 

Mar. They rnust have heard that we were not going to 
have any beer here. 



18 BRASS BUTTONS, 

Mad. (c). Oh, dear, then we have only one man coming, 
and that is Mr. Breyfogle. [Loud knock at the door. Made- 
line goes to the door and returns ivith note.') Oh, it is for me ! 
(^Reads.) " My dear Miss Madeline : — Am awfully sorry. 
Find I can't come down to-night. Thought I would enjoy 
it. Looking forward to it with all my heart and soul. I love 
good things to eat, but I can't come. 'Pon my word. I 
injured my back on the toboggan slide at the baths this after- 
noon, and am afraid of catching cold if I come down. Am a 
little deaf in one ear. Might catch cold in it. Love to Miss 
Milly and Miss Marigold and to Mrs. Wildwood and yourself. 
" Yours sincerely, 

"A. Sutherland Breyfogle." 

(Madeline takes out handkerchief.') 

Dodo. Rubber ! 

{Tableau of disappointment.) 

Milly {at table). Afraid of the cold. And he a veteran 

of the civil war, too. I am beginning to think that he is not 

worthy of my love ; but, ah ! I love him still. With all his 

faults, I love him still. 

Mad. Well, keep still aboyt it then. {Gives her a shove.) 
Mrs. W. Now, girls, we are going to have exactly as much 

fun as if the young men were coming. Here is the corkscrew, 

and suppose we have supper. 

Milly (r. of table). Dodo, go home ! 

Dodo (r., up front). Oh, miss, I don't want to go home; 

why can't I stay. Me, as loves to eat so much, and hasn't 

had a weine since yesterday. I want to stay. 
Milly. Dodo, go home ! {Stamps her foot ^ 
Dodo. I won't, so there. {Stafups her foot.) 
All. Go home. Dodo Ginty. {Stamp feet.) 
Dodo. How's that for a freeze out ? How would you like 

to be the ice man ? 

{The three girls confer at back of stage, while Mrs. Wild- 
wood joins Dodo down front R.) 

Mrs. W. Dodo, if I arrange so that you can stay down 
here, will you promise to stop calling me Eva, and acting as if 
I were going to steal the spoons ; and will you promise to for- 
get that you ever knew me before ? 



BRASS BUTTONS. I9 

Dodo. Oh, yes — Ev — ma'am. Yes, indeed, I'd do any- 
thing if I can only stay and have some fun. 

Mrs. W. Here is the key to my cottage {handing key-ring) 
next the hotel. You go there and get into some of my clothes 
that I had before I went into mourning. You will find them 
in a trunk in my room. Then after you have dressed up so 
that they can't tell who you are, come back, and I will intro- 
duce you as a newly arrived friend of mine, and you can stay. 
You won't give me away? 

Dodo. Yes Oh, no, ma'am. Oh, yes, ma'am, I'll do 

as you say. 

Mrs. W. And, Dodo, don't let the pug out. 

Dodo {standing by door). Good-night, missus, as were so 
hard-hearted they wouldn't let me stay. I hope you'll have a 
good time, and I guess you will — that ain't no josh. \Exit. 

Mad. It was rather mean to make her go ; but then she is 
so spoiled already. 

Mrs. W. Now let us have supper. I am as hungry as a 
man. 

{^Coming to table. All gather round the table ; busifiess of 
uncorking bottles, lighting chafijig dishes, etc.) 

Mrs. W. {risi?ig). I propose a toast. To the gentlemen, 
God bless them. May their shadows never grow less because 
of the suppers they have missed, and may they all get to heaven 
the same time we do. 

Mar. Amen ! 

MiLLY. They will, if they haven't another engagement. 

{All rise. Door R. opens, and enter Miss Darwin, using 
lorgnette. All stand still and look at her. ) 

Miss D. What a remarkable and disgraceful scene. 

MiLLY {goes toward her). Not at all. Won't you have 
some ? 

Miss D. On no account. "These towers shall move from 
their firm base as soon as I." Ah, how many men would say 
with me, " The lips that touch liquors shall never touch mine." 

MiLLY. Oh, go on and have some. No one wants to kiss 
you. You said, an}^vay, that you had never been kissed. 

{^Others surround her.) 

Miss D. No more have I ; but I never said no one had 



20 BRASS BUTTONS. 

tried. Ah, you reckless young ladies, do you know Mr. Suth- 
erland Breyfogle ? 

All {back at table). Do we? 

Miss D. He asked me to take a tete-d-tete with him this 
evening, but in my usual entirely proper way, I refused him, 
and came down to seek the seclusion of the clubhouse, and 
read? undisturbed, my Milton. Ah, my young ladies, have 
you ever read that grand rhapsodian ode of his, beginning — 
" No one to love me, none to caress " 

MiLLY {last ojie to return to table). Oh, give us a rest. 

Miss D. Seeing you have no chaperon. 

Mrs W. {rising). I am the chaperon. 

Miss D. {looking at her scornfully). As I said, seeing you 
have no chaperon, I shall stay here out of sympathy with your 
poor dear aunt, and read in that corner. 

{All groan. She ensconces herself r. c, where she ivatches 
through her lorgnette.) 

Mar. {rising o?i chair). I propose another toast. Let us 
drink to our ever noble and self-sacrificing guest, Avho, though 
entirely uninvited, is not altogether unexpected. May she see 
as much as she can, and enjoy herself as well as she will, with- 
out that usual social necessity — the men. 

Mad. {standing front). Let us drink to ourselves, girls, in 
this, this sparkling and foaming ginger ale — while it has a bead 
on it. I propose the toast — to each other. To us — the de- 
spair of our chaperons, the mystification of our masculine 
friends, and the hope of the golf-club. May we flourish ami- 
ably on the family tree. May Ave never want for cotillion 
favors or candy. May our chaperons always know where we 
are, except when we don't want them to, and our enemies 
never find us at home. May our hair never grow grey, our 
pocketbooks never be empty, and our love for each other 
never be misplaced. Here's to ourselves, then, and to no one 
else in particular. May you never be so good you're lonesome. 

{All rise and drink.) 

Mrs. W. {all seated). Now we must all sing. Suppose 
we try the stein song. I think you all know it. 

{Sifig any song with dance, if desired, at front of stage, or 
clicking steins across the table.) 



BRASS BUTTONS. 21 

Dodo {enters r., disguised). My dear Mrs. Wildwood. 
Vou don't know how very glad I am to see you. {Aside.') 
Crickets ! and I am indeed ; she's my only hope. {Aloud.) 
I was told at your dear little house as you were down here, 
and finding a note telling me to come on down, — well, here I 
am. {Aside.) And don't you forget it. 

Mrs. W. Ah — er — this is my friend Mrs. . 

Dodo. Miss, as it please you. 

Mrs. W. Miss Beldon. She's from Kansas. {Intro- 
duction.) 

MiLLY {dubiously). Well, I guess we are glad to meet 
you. 

Mad. Do you like weines ? 

Dodo. Well, do I ? That's what I'm here for — I mean — 
if there's any to spare. Yes, thank you. Miss — O'Naire. 

Mad. Where have I heard that voice before ? 

MiLLY. Marigold, give us your clog. 

(Marigold at first refuses, but after much urging, complies 
and dances a clog. At close Milly joins her. All ap- 
plaud. ) 

Dodo. Well, I guess I can rag, too. 

(Dodo andM.Vi^. WiLDWooDy'^m i?i burlesque dance.) 

Mar. Goodness ! Do they do that in Kansas ? 

Dodo. Oh, yes, indeed. Miss — Miss Marigold. It was a 
great success. {All seated but Dodo.) 

Mrs. W. Why ! Every one went wild over it. 

Dodo. Oh, everything goes in Kansas but making love. 
You see in love making it's never sixteen to one, and when you 
get a Philippino you keeps it. Now I'd just as soon have six- 
teen as one. The more the merrier, says I. All coons look 
alike to me. 

{All sing ^' Ma Honolulu Man,'' with Cakewalk. Dodo 
goes about clapping them on the back; at close Miss 
Darwin, who has gradually drawn nearer to the table, 
sits drinking, next Dodo.) 

Miss D. Ah, I feel the days of my youth returning in this 
bright company. Those bright days when all that glitters is 
not gold, and I walked the flowery meads, a creature wan and 
wild, with form too young for a woman and face too old for a 



22 BRASS BUTTONS. 

child. In maiden meditation, fancy free. That much for 
Milton. {Throws book?) Why, I read him so much I feel 
like a cherubim. Hence loathed melancholy — I feel like 
dancing. {Rises to feet, but sits down agaiti.^ But, no, I 
must not. Cornelia Brownell Darwin you must not. Remem- 
ber your age. I know what I will do. I will sing. Where is 
the banjo, girls ? Where is the banjo, I say ? 

Dodo. And if the old maid isn't getting right lively now. 
Well, I'll get the dear old thing a banjo. {Gets banjo.) 

Mad. I wonder how Miss Beldon knew that Miss Darwin 
is an old maid. 

Mrs. W. {rising). Silence in the court room ! We will 
now hear a song from Miss Cornelia Brownell Darwin. She 
looks as if she could sing. 

{As Miss Darwin tunes the banjo, these remarks are flung 
at her. ) 

Milly. Where did you learn? In the days of '49? 

Mad. Or when the new public library site was first talked 
about ? 

Mar. Oh, Miss Darwin, did you take lessons of Trognitz 
or Lew Arey ? 

Miss D. Neither. I came out twenty years ago. Twenty 
long years ago. 

{Sings '^Waiting.'' Afterward all congratulate her. Then 
golf drill. Sing verse of sotne popular song to close. ) 



CURTAIN 



SCENE II. — Same scene as last, but on the morning after. 
Everything in confusion. 

Aunt Flossie enters at door r., followed by caddie with 
golf bag. 

Aunt F. Did I ever in all my born days, or during 
any of the three periods when I was a married woman, see 
anything to equal this. No, I never did. {To caddy.) 



BRASS BUTTONS. 23 

Algernon Smith, you may sit down. Did you ever see a scene 
so disgraceful as this? (^He shakes his head.') I am sure he 
never did. Now, what I wonder, is, who did it? Who on 
earth could have been here ? I am so glad my own little mice 
were safely over at that sweet little Mrs. Wildwood's. 

Enter Miss Darwin r. 

Miss D. Oh, Mrs. O'Naire, oh, my poor, dear, old friend, 
pray calm yourself and remember that "laugh and the world 
laughs with you, weep and you weep alone." {Sits facing 
her.) But you shall not weep alone, for I am here. 

Aunt F. Oh, what has happened ? Something dreadful ? 

Miss D. Yes, something very dreadful. How can I tell 
you ? Pray calm yourself. The calm we have always with 
us. Prepare yourself, my dear Mrs. O'Naire. 

Aunt F. (almost in tears'). Oh, don't spare me, don't 
spare me. I am quite, quite prepared. 

Miss D. I know who it was who were here last night, in 
this very room, and left it in this shocking condition. 

Aunt F. {drawing closer). Oh, well, if it is a piece of 
gossip, don't keep me waiting. Algernon Smith you may go, 
{Exit caddy.) Now tell me quickly. I am anxious to know 
who the disgusting creatures were. 

Miss D. They were your own nieces and Mrs. Wildwood. 

(Aunt Flossie leans back in a fainting condition, and Miss 
Darwin brings her to with smelling salts.) 

Aunt F. I believe you are deceiving me. It is a bogie 
sand lie. 

Miss D. Mrs. O'Naire, in one regard I am just like George 
Washington. No one ever caught me in a lie. 

Aunt F. Do you mean to tell me that those delicately 
reared girls of mine, who speak French so beautifully, and 
each know three pieces apiece on the piano, and have been 
out only a year, and never put powder on their faces, that they 
got away with the contents of those bottles ? 

Miss D. Oh, my dear friend, be calm — they did. They 
also sang loud disgraceful songs, and danced a cake-walk, and 
a brazen creature from Kansas called some one up by telephone 
and talked to him for upward of an hour. Ah ! that love's 
sweet-scented manuscript should close. 

Aunt F. {with refiewal of hope). Oh, well, perhaps the 



24 BRASS BUTTONS. 

men liked it. Was Mr. Sutherland Br^yfogle there ? He is 
so fond of my girls — the dear fellow. 

Miss D. No, he wasn't there. I have every reason to think 
that he refused to come, or to take part in the disgraceful hi- 
larity. I have every reason to believe that he has the highest 
ideals and wishes to remain unspotted by the world. 

(Aunt Flossie again uses smelling salts. ) 

Aunt F. Well, what men were there ? 

Miss D. Not one, not one. Ah, poor friend, the leaves of 
life are falling one by one. 

Aunt F. I wish you would stop being so melancholy; I 
could bear it a little better. My hopes are falling one by one, 
and I shall take the girls home next week. The bad, ungrate- 
ful creatures ! After I brought them here, and was giving 
them such a good time, for them to disgrace me in this way. 
My mind is made up ; I shall take them home next week. 
Meanwhile — meanwhile, I shall drown my feelings in a good, 
rousing, violent, club-breaking game of golf. [Exit. 

Miss D. I hope I exaggerated sufficiently. They think I 
won't remember this morning, but I know well enough that 
that Kansas idiot chucked me under the chin, and Milly 
O'Naire locked me up in the kitchen, and then told me a mouse 
was there. I feel a little stiff this morning. "Ah, how sad 
that youth should vanish with the rose." Now I must hurry 
up and find Mr. Breyfogle and tell him all about it. I know 
he will be horrified. I guess I will have more chance with him 
after Mrs. O'Naire has taken those girls home. [Exit r. 

Enter through kitchen at R., Mrs. Wildwood, Marigold atid 
Milly, all talking volubly. Go about rearrangifig place, 
but stop frequently to yawn, etc. 

MiLLV (c). Oh, we did have a time of it ; but I have such 
a headache this morning, and I couldn't wake up Dodo, at all. 
She had her door locked. {Makes face at a bottle.) 

Mar. Where is Madeline? 

Milly. Oh, don't you know ? Go to the window and 
see. 

Mar. {from windoiv). Why, there she is, off golfing with 
Mr. Breyfogle. Aunt Flossie is just plowing up the earth and 
raising clouds of dust trying to overtake them. 

MiLLY. I hope she will succeed, for Madeline's sake. It's 



BRASS BUTTONS. 25 

just disgraceful the way she works that man for candy. His 
sore back and his deaf ear must be better this morning. (Mrs. 
WiLDWOOD remains in deep thought by tablf.) What are you 
thinking about, Eva dear ? Is it Reginald troubling you ? 

Mrs. W. No, I am thinking how we are going to get even 
with those men. 

Mar. (at window l.). Bravo ! Go it, old girl ! Aunt 
Flossie just made a hundred yard drive, and Madeline and 
Mr. Breyfogle have seen her coming, and are running to drive 
off again. ( Uses field glasses.) 

MiLLY (c). Yes, I want to get even with them too. We 
had a better time than we could have had if they had come, of 
course, but we must break their pride in some way, if it takes a 
pile driver. 

Mrs. W. Yes, that is what I think. We must break their 
pride. {Potcnds table.) 

MiLLY. Now what would you suggest? We tried their 
stomachs, and that didn't work. 

Mar. {at window). Oh, hurry up, Madeline, hurry. She 
lofted her ball in a bunker, and she and Mr. Breyfogle have 
been whacking at it the longest time. Now he looks back and 
sees Aunt Flossie getting ready to loft. That inspires him. 
Good ! He is on the green. Good work ! 

Mrs. W. {to Milly). Don't touch ray sore arm; you 
jumped on it last night. I have thought of a scheme. We 
.will invite all the men we know to a leap year dance. Regi- 
nald always hated them profoundly. I have no doubt that the 
last one he attended hastened his death. 

Milly. Oh, won't it be fun ; we'll have a leap year dance. 

Mar. {at window). Go it, old girl ! 

Mrs. W. Marigold is very trying this morning. She 
doesn't seem a bit tired. Yes, we will invite them to a leap 
year dance. We will reverse the usual order of things, and 
have just half as many girls as men, that will leave them wall 
flowers most of the evening. 

Milly. I wonder if they will enjoy sitting against walls 
with their chaperons, as much as we do. Oh joy ! We are 
going to get ahead at last. ( Waves piece of sausage.) 

Mar. {at window). There ! Aunt Flossie has overtaken 
them. She putted into the same hole before they holed out. 
Now she is talking to them. My, isn't she talking though. 
I'm glad I'm not there. I wonder what is the matter. There ! 
Madeline is '^ sassing ' ' back, and Mr. Breyfogle has sat down 



BRASS BUTTONS. 



on the ground, and is digging a hole with his cleek. What 
can be the matter^ 

{The three gather at wmdow. IVhile caddies come in and 
run off with bottles, etc. Tableau.^ 



CURTAIN 



ACT III 

SCENE. — Corridor or hall outside of ballroo^n. A flight of 
steps leading up to door or window overlooking ballroom. 
Box of candy on steps. Dressing table L. Dance music is 
played softly throughout this act. Dodo at i.. c, is guard- 
ing a big pile of men' s hats and overcoats. She is in her 
usual maid's costufne. Marigold, in full evening dress, 
appears at the door ; comes down steps and comes to front of 
stage. 

Mar. Oh, we are having more than fun. Dear me, I 
never knew before what fun men must have at a dance. This 

is heavenly ! One of those Mr. 's who are always in the 

swim, the one who never asked me to dance at the hops, looked 
so reproachfully at me, as I came out, because I wouldn't ask 
him for the next waltz. He was sitting all by himself and try- 
ing to look as if he didn't care. 

(^Puts up her shoe for Dodo to tie.^ 

Dodo. Oh, miss ! How can you be so cruel ? 

Mar. I am not cruel. I am just acting like a man. You 
must not call me miss, Dodo, you must call me Mr. O'Naire, 
{Looking at programme.^ Here it is nearly time for supper, 
and I've only danced with Mr. Breyfogle iive times. I wonder 
where he is ? 

(She goes about looking for hitn, and at last, while the others 
are talking, hurries across the stage, up the steps and into 
the ballroom again. Meanwhile voices have been heard in 
loud altercation, and Milly and Madeline come down 
steps together looking at programmes. Wave hand to 
Marigold on seeing her.') 

Milly. Mr. Breyfogle told me he wasn't going to divide 
up another dance. 

Mad. I don't care, I've had three with him anyway, and 
there are more to come. I have asked him for supper, too. 

27 



28 BRASS BUTTONS. 

MiLLY. Well, I don't care if you have. I always said you 
were greedy. Why don't you ask to dance. 

Mad. Because, I won't ! He skipped one of mine at last 
week's hop to go down and get an orange phosphate. 

MiLLV. Well, you've got to give me one of your dances 
with the naval officer, you mean thing. He told me to tell you 
to. 

Mad. He didn't. 

MiLLY. He did. 

Mad. And he is the last new young man, too. {Weeps.) 

MiLLY. I wouldn't be such a baby. 

Mad. You couldn't ; you're too old ! 

MiLLY. I'm going to find him and tell him you said you 
wouldn't give up one of his dances. 

Mad. And I'm going to find him and ask him for another 
dance. 

( They turn their backs on each other, and run upstairs to 
ballroom.') 

Dodo. There seems to be some quarreling going on here, 
and between them two girls as was callin' each other sweet- 
heart and darlin' such a short time ago. As long as they're 
men for to-night, I should guess they could have their own 
way for once. I just wish I could go into that ballroom. 
Wouldn't I show 'em ! Wouldn't I just march down that ball- 
room floor, with my head high and my eyes haughty like, fixed 
on the ceilin', and not pay any attention to the wall flowers. 
No, not even if they got tired of waitin' and their mothers 
took 'em home. I'd just lean up against the wall, indifferent 
like, and not ask nobody to dance. Not I ! I'd act as if I just 
got there on my looks. And after a while, I'd go out with some 
other fellow, of course, and take a real good pull at a long, 
long Mexican cigar. {Takes money out of pocket.) Mr. 
Breyfogle gave me this. ( Tosses it up and catches it.) I guess 
it's all right. It's only a nickel. Ain't he a pincher, though? 
But he ain't stingy about everything. No, indeed, he ain't. 
Wouldn't those girls in there just have blue blazes cat fits with 
hot pepper in their eyes, and cataleptic convulsions on the half 
shell if they knew that their lovely, darlin' Mr. Sutherland 
Breyfogle, United States Navy, kissed me ? ( Whirls around 
on toes atid strikes attitude.) Yes, I have been kissed by Mr. 
Sutherland Breyfogle ! But then, I'll bet I'm not the only one. 
( Winks.) There are others ! 



BRASS BUTTONS. 2() 

(Miss Darwin walks down the steps in very good spirits, 
smiling and throwing a kiss coquettishly back into the ball- 
room.^ 

Miss D. (simpering). Oh, dear, I never had such a really 
lovely time in my life. I am such a belle this evening. The 
men cannot skip my dances, because, of course, they cannot 
walk across the floor unless some girl {goes to seat l.) takes 
them, and there arn't enough to go around. In the words of 
our beloved Shakespeare, " Something always comes to him 
who waits," and I have waited forty years to have a good time 
at a dance. {Sits l.) At last ! At last ! 

Dodo. Don't none of them refuse to dance with you, 
miss ? 

Miss D. Oh, are you there, Dodo? {Rises.) No, in- 
deed, they don't; they are afraid to. That nice Mr. 

looked at me as if he were going to run away, but I saw he 
hesitated, and he who hesitates, you know. Dodo, is lost. 

Dodo. Well, when he gave me his hat to hold, so nice and 
pleasant like, little did he know the awful things which was go- 
ing to happen to him this evening, in that very room there. 

Miss D. Have you seen that new man, {looks at pro- 
gramme) Mr. Livermore, about here anywhere ? I am looking 
for him. My next dance is with him. {Looking about ivith 
lorgnette. ) 

Dodo. Yes, ma'am, he went awalking and atalking with 
the widow a while ago — off that way ! 

(Miss Darwin goes in that direction, as Mrs. Wildwood 
comes down the steps, smiling.) 

Mrs. W. Oh, Dodo, you dear little thing, it is such fun in 
there. We have them completely at our mercy. I haven't had 

such a crack-a-jack time since the days of old B St. school, 

when we used to slide down the hill on wooden sleds. Do you 
remember ? You fell and broke your nose, and the teacher 
whipped me with a ruler once because I wrote an excuse say- 
ing I was ill, and signed my own name. {Goes to dressing 
table, uses powder on face, etc.) All the young men in there 
have to sit against the wall until a girl asks them to dance. 
They can't even cross the room to the punch bowl, or prome- 
nade in the corridor unless a girl takes them. They look so 
sweet and dependent, hoping to be taken for a glass of punch. 
Those Misses O'Naire are silly, though, even if they are going 



30 BRASS BUTTONS. 

a,vvay so soon, they ought not to have allowed me to influence 
them to act so scandalously. They are all three running after 
Mr. Breyfogle in the most open manner, when I especially told 
them to be careful and not enrage those other men too far. 
Even worms turn. 

Dodo. Oh, Eva, you was always such a clever one. It's a 
wonder Reg ever had the heart to die. {Seated on steps.') 

Mrs. W. Well, he had heart enough for anything. 

Dodo {rising frotn steps'). Oh, Eva, give me your pro- 
gramme. I ain't havin' no fun out here watching these old 
coats. Ain't that a peach? 

{Holds up a ragged one.) 

Mrs. W. Oh ! whose is that ? Here, take my programme. 
All salaries are not alike to me, and the owner of that over- 
coat isn't even worth asking to dance. 

(Mrs. WiLDWOOD no%v goes through coats, /in din s^ collars, curl- 
ing irons, and other absurd things in them, while Dodo reads 
her programme aloud, which must consist of real frames 
and local hits. This little scene to be long or short to suit 
actors and circumstances.) 

Dodo {last reading from prografnme). S. Sutherland Brey- 
fogle. Why, how did you get a dance with him ? You are smart. 

Mrs. W. Oh, he saved one for me. What's this? {Hold- 
ing up manuscript.) 

Dodo. Oh, that must be 's coat. He's writing a 

novel on girls' boating clubs. His heroine swims nine miles, 
climbs a mountain, wins the golf champion sTiip, rescues two 
men, three women, five children, two dogs and a chicken from 
drowning all in one day. 

Mrs. W. If that is true to life, I don't believe I will join a 
rowing club. 

Dodo. Why not, Eva; haven't you been asked? 

Mrs. W. Of course, Professor Burks asked me as soon as I 
came ; but I am afraid I would find Reg too soon at that rate ; 
I couldn't survive so much exercise. 

{Loud cries, outside ''No, No ; please stop. Yes, I will, 
etc.'' The three girls come flying dowfi the steps.) 

MiLLY. I told him he couldn't just as soon as he began. 



BRASS BUTTONS. 3! 

Mad. Yes, I just gave him an awful push over to his seat, 
but he wouldn't take it. 

Mar. I had hold of his coat tails, but I couldn't stir him. 
He must have nails in his heels. 

MiLi.Y. They sounded like rubber. 

Mad. Oh, Mrs. Wildwood, do make them stop. 

Mrs. W. Why, girls, what is it ? 

MiLLY. That obstinate insists upon getting up and 

dancing with another man. 

Mad. I told him it was against the rule. {Noke outside.') 

MiLLY. If he isn't stopped, he'll spoil our party ; every 
man will be up there dancing without the girls, and we will be 
wall flowers after all. 

Mad. {walking tip and down). Oh, stop him, stop him. 

Mar. But don't use force. 

Dodo. Force, is it? (^Rolling up sleeves.) Well, you just 
wait till I get in there. I wasn't trained in a girls' debating 
society for nothing. I'll be the Sergeant at Arms. 

(Aunt Flossie appears at doorway in strange apparel — 
golf skirt and party waist.) 

Mar. Why, Aunt Flossie ! How strange you look. Don't 
you think you are very queerly dressed for our party ? 

Aunt F. I don't care. I don't care any more than I do 
for a single player on the golf course. I made such a foozle 
of my last drive, this afternoon, that I hadn't the heart to dress 
up much. But a^ the floor manager of this mixed doubles 
arrangement, — those young men in there say they will be good 
balls, — I mean men, — if you will come back. And they are 
stymied over with hunger. They say they want their suppers. 

Mrs. W. Well, they can have it very soon, if they are 
good, and do as they are told. I'll go and say to them that 
we are going to have only doughnuts and coff"ee, and perhaps 
they won't be in such a hurry for their supper. 

\_Exit zip steps. 

Aunt F. In my character of floor manager, I have been 
trying to keep those young men from dancing except when the 
girls asked them. And I found one lonely young man danc- 
ing all by himself, and he wouldn't listen to me, but sliced 
every step. To be sure, I was putting in a corner of the ball- 
room — there's my ball^and then I put out — here, but now I 
think I'll put back. \_Exit up steps. 



32 BRASS BUTTONS. 

MiLLY. Oh ! Aunt Flossie ! Dodo, you go up and watch, 
and don't let any of them come out. 

Dodo. Well, I guess not. They've got to get their tickets 
of leave from me. {Rolling up sleeves.') 

(Dodo goes up and sits down on steps looking in doorway.) 

MiLLY. Now we can have a nice time out here and a good 
rest, just as if we were really the men. 

Mad. Yes, and swagger up and down the way they do, be- 
cause they only have to dance when their Royal Highnesses 
please to. It is nice to be able to ask just whom one wants to 
for a dance. I don't blame them for being somewhat stuck up 
over it. I feel like that myself to-night. 

MiLLY. Say, old fellow, have a cigar? {Slapping her on 
shoulder.) 

(Marigold ///i/j- 07i some of the coats and hats.) 

Mad. Don't say such horrid things even in fun, Milly 
O'Naire; you're perfectly shocking. 

Milly. " I don't care if I am. I don't care what happens 
to me. We have to go home this week. Isn't it mean of Aunt 
Flossie, just when Mr. Breyfogle is getting so attached to me. 

Mar. '\ 

and [ What ! 

Mad. ) 

Milly. Well, there is no knowing what would happen if I 
stayed here much longer. He might win me in spite of myself. 
I'll tell you what I'll do, girls. I'll bet you a new silk hat 
against a watermelon, I shall get a brass button for my collec- 
tion from Ensign B. 

Dodo. Oh, missus, Mr. is sitting all alone. {From 

top of steps, looking in ballroom.) 

Mad. We don't care ! And I'll bet you a box of Inger- 
soU's candy against a, — a — copy of the Sun, that I will have 
one too. 

Mar. {with man' s hat and coat on). You always seem to 
leave me out, — as if I had no influence with Mr. Breyfogle. I 
bet you a horseless carriage against a kissing bug that I get 
two from him this very night. 

{Music is heard. Marigold and Milly waltz ^ 

Dodo. Oh, missus ! Miss Darwin's got, . She's 



BRASS BUTTONS. 33 

got him, she's got him. She's a dancing with him. She goes 
up and down like a cork in the water. Oh, she's stepped on 
his toes, and he's stopped right in the middle of the floor hold- 
ing on to liis shoe. Ha ! — ha ! — ha ! Oh, he's a trying to 
get away. 

(Ail laugh while DoDO comes down. Marigold goes up 
steps to see, and Milly exit L. Madeline exit r. Dodo 
remains c, laughijig.') 

Dodo. And to see Miss Darwin hanging to his arm, and a 
coquettin' and coquettin' with him, as if she was his choice, and 
he a tryin' to be so polite. I believe he'd rather dance with 
me than with that Miss Cornelia Brownell Darwin. 

Enter Madeline weeping. 

Dodo. What's the matter, miss ? 

Mad. Mr. says he won't dance a waltz with me 

because I two-step so much better than I waltz, and I told him 
he would have to waltz with me or not at all. Oh, I was very 
firm. 

Dodo. Are you going to waltz with him, then, miss? 

Mad. No, he was very firm, too. And now he is sitting 
there looking just as pathetic. ( Weeps.') 

Dodo. Well, you can two-step with him after supper. 

Mad. No, I've engaged all my dances, and he has always 
been so polite to me. Why, once when I danced with him at 
a party, he clapped so hard they encored the dance. 

Dodo. That was real polite of him, miss. 

Mad. Yes, and now I haven't even a two-step left for him. 
And I was so mean about it too. Poor fellow. ( Weeps.) 

Enter Marigold l. , carrying large glass of water. 

Dodo. Oh, I say Miss Marigold. Where is it yer goin' 
with that barrel of water ? 

Mar. It's for Mr. , Dodo; he says he's tired. 

(^Disappears again up steps.) 

Dodo {sitting dowji). This sassiety business is a queer job, 
a queer job. I'd rather look on than be in it. (^Exit Mad.) 
I don't think my nerves would stand it. 

(Miss Darwin comes down c, weeping.) 
L.ofC. 



34 BRASS BUTTONS. 

Dodo. Oh, you poor old thing, what is the matter with 
you ? 

Miss D. Oh, nothing, nothing. I suppose I ought to be so 
used to disappointments that I wouldn't know them when I 
see them. But I still have the feelings of a rosebud. 

Dodo. Whodiditl*' 

Miss D. Didn't I tell you that I had never been kissed? It 
isn't that, but I — I — asked Mr. Breyfogle to be my husband. I 
said in the most respectful way, — "Oh! bemine." Andhesaid, 
*'No; decidedly no," — that on no account would he be mine. 
That his mind was made up on the matter, and that I must 
never, never, never, never, speak of it to him again. {Weeps.) 

Dodo {laiigJiiiig). Oh, oh, oh, oh ! 

Miss D. But they say that {sighs) in time absence makes 
the heart grow fonder, and perhaps after I am gone, he will 
remember me and sigh for me. 

DoDO. I tell you. Miss Darwin, it's your only hope. If he 
forgets you he might take you, but as long as he remembers 
you, no — and I says it as always gives good advice to maiden 
ladies. Don't you cry for him no more. I think he's nothing 
but an ordinary double back-action flirt. I've a mind to go 
right in there and tell him what I think of him. 

Miss D. Oh, don't. I suppose he has a perfect right to 
refuse to wed me, if he wishes to. But of one thing I am quite 
sure ; I shall never, never propose to a man again. It was a 
most terrible experience. Why, I was so agitated, not a quo- 
tation came to me ; and I think I am glad he did refuse me. 
Why, Dodo, if he had accepted me, it would have been very 
embarrassing for me, and with all the other young men in the 
ballroom looking on too. It might have caused a number of 
duels. 

DoDO. Yes, that's so ; it might, ma'am. They might have 
got jealous of him, you a preferrin' him so. Why is it that 
them flirts is always so mortal attractive? I wonder who's got 
him now? {Goes to steps and looks in.) Why, he isn't any- 
where to be seen. I suppose they've got him somewhere beg- 
ging him for brass buttons. ( Waves her hand gaily.) No, 
I'm not dancing to-night, Mr. , my misses were so hard- 
hearted as they wouldn't let me. (Miss D. opens ?/p book and 
begins to read. Dodo coming down.) What's that you're 
readin'. Miss Cornelia Brownell Darwin? If I might make so 
bold,-=-me as is always so afraid of elegant ladies. 

Miss D. I am reading "How to be Happy though Mar- 



BRASS BUTTONS. 35 

ried." It is one of the most consoling books I have ever 
found. 

Dodo. I'll bet, ma'am, it can't touch " Light Fingered Sal, 
The Pride of the Plain." Why, ma'am, that book just 
knocks the spots out of all those "Gadflys" and "David 
Harums" and "Darkest Africa" and "Farthest North Pole" 
and " Lightest Asias " them young ladies read. {Sits dourn 
beside her.^ 

Miss D. Does it, indeed ? 

Dodo. Yes, it does, and that ain't no lie. Oh, I'm very 
literary, miss. I read through seven books in one day once, 
and cried over 'em all ; and then I got down and scrubbed 
two floors to relieve my feelin's, ma'am. 

Miss D. You did ? 

Dodo. Yes, ma'am, I did ; and don't you forget it. But 
this Light Fingered Sal, she beats 'em all, she did. She 
killed three deputy sheriffs, broke jail twice, and niarried the 
catch of the place, Tight-fisted Tom, the rich man who hadn't 
no money to spend. Oh, it was a fine book. When I grow 
up now. Miss . {Stands up.) 

Miss.D. Grow up. Dodo. 

Dodo. Yes, ma'am, when I finish gettin' my growth, I'm 
a goin' to get married. I'm a goin' to borrow some of Eva 
Wildwood's best clothes, and give a party and make a match. 
None of your make excuses, kiss in the dark, like everybody 
the same, Sutherland Breyfogles for me, — no, indeed. I'm 
goin' to do the flirting in j/iy family. 

Miss D. Ah, Dodo, you remind me that failure, not low 
aim, is crime. Whom do you wish to marry ? 

Dodo. That man who drives the 'bus for the hotel, ma'am ; 
and won't I have fun, ridin' out Sundays with him. 

(Aunt Flossie appears at head of steps agai)i.) 

Aunt F. (wringing hands). Oh, those dreadful girls ! 
Those dreadful unkeep-trackable girls ! They are so cruel. I 
am so glad those poor young men have something to eat at 
last. It was really pitiful to see them put up their hands for 
the ice cream. But now the girls are all squabbling over Mr. 
Breyfogle, as to who shall drive off for the next dance. I shall 
be so glad to get them away from here. But I wanted to stay 

longer myself. Why, I expected to break Mrs. 's golf 

record next week. By the way. Miss Darwin, I haven't so 
much coivfidence in widows as I did have. 



36 BRASS BUTTONS. 

Miss D. Nor I. I know she has been setting dear Suther- 
land against me. 

{The three girls come excitedly down steps, wearing enor- 
mous brass buttons.^ 

MiLLY. When he gave me mine, he said, " Hoping you 
will always keep it bright in memory of my devotion." 

Mad. With mine he said, "I am yours always, and as 
long after as you care to know me. There is only one girl in 
this world for me," and then he looked so meaningly at me. 

Mar. He said to me, "Take these buttons with my love, 
and if any other girl says she has any of mine, don't believe 
her." 

Mad. '\ 
and V The horrid thing ! 

MiLLV ) 

(Mrs. WiLDWOOD appears at door.') 

Mrs. W. Oh, you are all here I see. {Cotnes down steps.) 
I have only a minute to spare, but I wish to tell you — the very 
first — you have all been so nice to him. Mr. Breyfogle and I 
have just become engaged, and I want you to stay over for the 
wedding. Please don't refuse, my dear Mrs. O'Naire, anjd 
you too. Miss Darwin. You see it's the palmist's fault. She 
said I was to marry a hero, and Reg was nothing of the sort, 
you know. Oh, Dodo, I am so happy ! {They embrace.) 

Dodo {extricating herself ). I'm sure I hope you'll enjoy 
him, Eva Wildwood, you as drove one husband to his death al- 
ready. {Turns back.) 

Aunt F. Dodo ! {To Mrs. Wildwood.) Of all the un- 
expected, remarkable, unlocked for scores, this beats all, and 
wins the game. Well, you are a record breaker, Mrs. Wild- 
wood, and I congratulate you. 

Miss D. I hope you will be happy, MrSi Wildwood, but I 
am not exactly sure. "All that glitters is not gold." I will 
remain for the wedding with pleasure; and oh, — ah, — my 
dear Mrs. Wildwood, have you selected a bridesmaid yet? 

Mrs. W. How can you ask ? I wish these dear girls, just 
my own age, to support me on that trying occasion. 

MiLLV. We will, we will, Eva ! There are plenty more 
fish in the sea. 

Mar. Yes, he is not the only pebble. 

Mad. {7viping eyes). I prefer Mr. , anyway. 



BRASS BUTTONS. 37 

{All join in fancy square dance, singing, to tur of "/ 
Doubt It:') 

THE AMERICAN GIRL 

Fro7n a collection of college poems called "Cap and Gown" 

We laugh at our sorrows, we laugh at our joys. 
We laugh at Dame Fortune's mad whirl; 

And laughing, we'll meet all our troubles in life, 
The laughing American girl 
Yes, the laughing American girl. 

You say we can't love if we laugh all the time! 

A laugh at your logic we'll hurl ; 
We love while we laugh, and we laugh while we love. 

The laughing American girl 

Oh, the laughing American girl. 

(At close, Dodo c, with flag; others in tableau.") 



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A House in the Moon. A Recita- 
tion for a Child. 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




This series is offei-ed to meet a growing demand for the plays of this well- 
abused and hotly-discussed writer, whose influence over the contemporary drama 
is enormous even if his vogue in the American theatre be still regrettably 
small. These plays are intended for the reading public, but are recommended 
for the use of literary societies and reading clubs, and somewhat diHTdently 
suggested to dramatic clubs, as providing unconventional but vigorously acta- 
ble material. As a dramatist Ibsen is absolutely " actor-tight," and has written 
more successful parts and inspired more " hits " than any of his more popular 
contemporaries. This edition is printed in large, clear type, well suited for the 
iise of reading clubs. The following titles are ready. 

AFiOT T 'Q T-TOTT^F I A Play in Three Acts. Translated by Wil- 
i^V/l^A^ O 1 i.v^»-/v>u«i j^j^ jj ARcnER. Three male, four female char- 
^-^———^^——^^——^ acters, and three children. Price, 35 cents. 

THE PILLAItS OF SOOETY. 



(US 

I The Plays of Henw 

iiV Edited^ with Critical and Biographical Introduction, 
A by EDMUND GOSSE. 

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female characters. 



A Play in Focir Acts. 

Translated by William 

Archer. Ten male, nine 

Price, 35 cents. 



GHOSTS. 



'OSMERSHOLM. 



THE LADY FROM THE SEA. 



characters. 



ters. 



male, six female characters. 

HEDDA GABLER. 



A Brama in Three Acts. Translated by William 
Archer. Three male, two female characters. 

Price, 35 cents. 

A Drama in Four Acts. Translated by M. 
Carmichael. Four male, two female charac- 
ters. Price, 35 cents. 

A Drama in Five Acts. 

Translated by C l ar a B e ll . 

Five male, three female 

Price, 35 cents. 

A Play in Five Acts. Trans- 
lated by William Archer. 
' Nine male, two female charac- 
Price, 35 cents. 

A Drama in Five Acts. Translated by E. 
M. AvELlNG. Twelve male, three female 
characters. Price, 35 cents. 

A Play in Five Acts. 

Translated by Henry 

Carstarfhen. Twelve 

Price, 35 cents. 



AN ENEMY OF SOOETY. 



THE WILD DUCK. 



THE YOUNG MEN'S LEAGUE. 



THE MASTER BUILDER. 



female characters. 



A Drama in Four Acts. Translated by 
Edmund Gosse. Three male, four female 
characters. Price, 50 cents. 



A Play in Three Acts. Trans- 
lated by Edmund Gosse and Wil- 
liam Archer. Four male, three 
Price, 50 cents. 



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015 762 661 9* 

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